


silent and starving

by epoenine



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Canon Compliant, Frottage, M/M, Smut, but i tried oh gOD did i try, it's probably underage idk the rules for verona in 1300, yeah it's set in canon times this was hard to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epoenine/pseuds/epoenine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, though, the sun is just sweltering, and a day under a shady tree with a bottle of wine isn’t helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	silent and starving

**Author's Note:**

> i bring you sex this is frottage and half a blowjob  
> also they're not drunk  
> uhh i'm not shakespeare and i don't own these characters  
> enjoy your smut  
> update: i wrote this before i had extensively researched elizabethan language so sorry for the mistakes!

Most days in Verona consist of hot, long, never ending hours under the sun. They’re uncomfortable and the humidity is thick in the air; there’s no way to escape the heat. Unless, of course, they join Romeo naked in the lake. Benvolio and Mercutio do, sometimes, but Romeo’s never there.

This time, though, the sun is just sweltering, and a day under a shady tree with a bottle of wine isn’t helping.

“It’s hot,” Mercutio points out, taking a swig from the bottle and passing it to Benvolio.

“Thou art correct,” he responds, lips tinted red from the sweet liquid.

Mercutio leans forward, saying, “Let’s make use of our time,” against Benvolio’s lips before pulling him into a kiss.

“What dost thou suggest?” Benvolio questions, his tone playful and his lips smirking.

“Well,” Mercutio trails off pressing Benvolio back against the blanket they’d brought and hovering over him.

He starts by kissing at Benvolio’s neck, taking off Benvolio’s shirt slowly and letting the other man roll his hips up, creating friction that they both desperately want.

“Patience,” Mercutio says, sternly, before nipping at Benvolio’s neck.

A melodic sound is ripped from the back of Benvolio’s throat when Mercutio sucks gently at his pulse point, feeling it quicken under his tongue.

Benvolio whines, a high pitched sound that is music to Mercutio’s ears, and his hips buck up again.

Mercutio laughs, quite darkly, as his hands make their way down Benvolio’s chest, stopping at his hipbones.

“Tell me,” Mercutio says against the shell of Benvolio’s ear, “what does thou wish?”

“Touch--” a sharp gasp sounds as Mercutio pushes down Benvolio’s pants. “Touch me. Please,” Benvolio breathes out, his voice airy and impatient.

Mercutio kisses down Benvolio’s chest, his tongue darting out against his nipple, eliciting a moan.

Benvolio kicks the pants away, exposed in front of almost fully clothed Mercutio, who had discarded his shirt earlier in the day.

Mercutio kisses Benvolio hipbone before licking the base of his cock to the tip, pausing to press a kiss to the head.

Benvolio gasps, and that quickly turns into a moan when Mercutio takes his cock into his mouth, surrounding Benvolio’s length in a wet heat.

“Mercutio,” Benvolio whispers, his voice hoarse and strained, when Mercutio pulls back off.

“Patience, my love,” Mercutio says, his breath brushing past the tip of Benvolio’s cock, making him shiver and grasp at the blanket. He takes Benvolio in his mouth again, deep enough so that the head hits the back of Mercutio’s throat. Benvolio groans as he thrusts up, only to have Mercutio push his hips back down with the back of his forearm.

Mercutio pulls back, his tongue brushing over the slit and drawing out another moan from Benvolio. In all honesty, Mercutio loves that Benvolio voices his pleasure.

“I won’t last, if thou insists on teasing me with that tongue,” Benvolio says, grabbing Mercutio’s hair and pulling him up, meeting his lips.

Before fumbling with his trousers, Mercutio breathes, “May I?” and Benvolio nods, pupils growing darker.

After the pants are pushed away, Mercutio grasps their cocks in his hand, thrusting into his fist while stroking slowly.

Benvolio kisses him before pulling back, letting their foreheads rest together. They breath heavily, sharing the same oxygen and drinking in each other’s moans.

Benvolio spends first, with a cry of “Mercutio,” and Mercutio strokes him through it, his own erection forgotten in favor of watching Benvolio’s face reacting to this pleasure.

With a shaky, recovering hand, Benvolio takes Mercutio’s cock, stroking it as Mercutio bites down on the muscle in Benvolio’s neck. After three tugs, Mercutio spends, a mix of a groan and Benvolio’s name spilling out of his mouth.

Mercutio lays beside Benvolio, their skin glistening with sweat as they stare at the sky.

Once they get uncomfortable, Mercutio grabs his shirt, wiping off Benvolio and then himself.

“I love thee, like this,” Mercutio says, eyes flitting across Benvolio’s body. “Thou art beautiful, debauched and undone from my doings,” he adds, with a grin, leaning down to repeat, “I love thee,” against Benvolio’s lips before pulling him into a gentle kiss.

“And I, thou,” Benvolio replies, his voice hoarse, and then the same voice laughs, sweet sounds filling the vacant meadow they’ve discovered.

“Let’s never leave,” Mercutio suggests, seriousness written on his face.

Benvolio hesitates, and then gives in. “Okay,” he says, nodding.

They stay until it’s nighttime, Benvolio falling asleep against Mercutio’s shoulder, and he’s reluctant to wake him.

Their hands are entwined on the walk home, and they unwillingly part, but alas, there’s things to get done, and Romeo’s probably upset over a woman again.

“Where’s your clothing?” one of the servants asks, and while Mercutio keeps a straight face as he answers, Benvolio can’t help but blush furiously.

**Author's Note:**

> i can be found at prouvairie.tumblr.com or benvolio.co.vu  
> i hope you enjoyed it this was hard to write  
> the title was taken from a Pablo Neruda poem because when is it not (the joke is that my titles are always from a pablo neruda poem)


End file.
